


The Heritage Duology

by mithrel



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blanket Permission, Gen, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-16
Updated: 2009-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/472713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of <i>Le Morte d’Arthur</i> Merlin finds out about his lineage.  His father soon poses a threat to Camelot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Decisions

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Coming of Age](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3170) by [astolat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/pseuds/astolat). 



Merlin rode back to Camelot beside Gaius, paying no attention to his surroundings.

_“I’m not one of you!”_

_“We are both creatures of the Old Religion.”_

_“I thought you were my friend!”_

_“I am more than that, Merlin. I am your kin. You too are a creature of the Old Religion. You should join with me.”_

He wasn’t like Nimueh. He wasn’t the dragon’s kin. The dragon had betrayed him. Everything he had told him about destiny and coins and halves was a lie, to get him to convince Arthur to repeal the ban on magic and set him free.

He wondered, for the first time in years, who his father was, and what had happened to him. His mother had been evasive whenever he asked, talking about a plague. He wasn’t sure if he believed that. Gaius had said when he first came to Camelot that the things he did were impossible, that there had never been anyone like him.

When he got back to Gaius’ rooms his mother was sitting up in bed, the sores already fading.

Gwen looked at him and smiled. “She’s much better.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“Of course. I need to get back to Morgana anyway.”

“Gwen.”

She turned back, at the door. “Hm?”

“Thanks for looking after her.”

“It was no problem.” She smiled at him and slipped out.

He approached the bed. “I told you I would save you.”

She smiled at him. “I never doubted it.”

“Mother, who was my father?” He had to ask her now, before she left again. It would be too easy to ignore letters.

She didn’t look at him when she answered. “I told you Merlin, he was a farmer, he was killed by a plague when you were very young…”

Merlin shook his head at her. “You’re lying. Don’t lie to me!”

She sighed and shook her head. “I suppose I’d have to tell you the truth soon anyway.” She settled back on the pillows and began.

“Eighteen years ago, I met a man in the woods. I’d never seen him before, but he was so handsome.” She paused. “I can’t tell you what he looked like, only that he was beautiful, wearing a low-necked brown tunic and a short hooded cape.”

“He was no one you’d seen before?”

She shook her head. “He asked me to lay with him, and I agreed.” A wistful smile crossed her face. “He was very handsome.”

Merlin said nothing.

“Well, afterwards, he was gone. No one knew who he was. At Samhain, you were born, and he came to me again.”

“What happened?” Merlin asked, morbidly fascinated.

“He said his name was the Dagda, and he was the chief of the Sidhe. He demanded that I give him his child. I refused, of course. I told him that you were _my_ son, and that the Sidhe knew nothing about raising a human child.”

“What did he do?”

“He smiled.” She shivered at the memory. “He agreed to let me raise you, but said that when you came of age he would return, and ask you to choose.”

“Choose what?”

“The mortal world or Avalon.”

“But that’s only a few months away!”

His mother nodded.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Of course I was!” his mother protested. “I just…I just wanted to protect you.”

“So that’s why I have magic,” Merlin mused. “I’d wondered. You don’t, and I was born using it.” His voice was calm, but his mind was churning. The dragon had been right. His father was a Sidhe. He _was_ a creature of the old religion, and in less than three months he would have to choose.

He already knew what his choice would be. His destiny might be a lie, but he wasn’t going to abandon Arthur.

“I’m sorry,” his mother said. “I know this is difficult to take in.”

Merlin just shook his head.

***

In the next few months, he found everything he could on the Sidhe and the Dagda. He learned he was the god of time and magic, the creator, with the power of life and death. He learned that only iron could injure one of the Sidhe, and that the Dagda was blind in one eye. He learned everything he could, and on the night of Samhain he rode out of Camelot to the woods nearby, without telling anyone where he was going.

He rode until he reached a clearing and tied his horse to a tree within reach of browse, and waited. He was wearing a sword he had enchanted, and carrying a bag of nails bent into “U” shapes. He felt more vulnerable than he’d ever felt in his life.

He waited in the cold, until the moon shone directly into the clearing, illuminating the undergrowth. Without warning a great wind arose.

He shielded his eyes against it, and when it had cleared, the clearing was filled with people, unlike the Sidhe he’d seen before: tall, proud and cruel.

At their head was a man wearing a brown low-necked tunic which just reached his hips and a hooded cape that barely covered his shoulders. On his feet were horse-hide boots. He bore with him a great club, which dragged on the ground.

“So, youngling,” he spoke in a melodious voice. “You come of age today.”

“I do,” Merlin agreed, refusing to avert his eyes.

“The time has come for you to make a choice.”

“I choose the mortal world. I will not go with you.”

The Dagda’s eyes narrowed. “You would throw away all I could teach you? You could learn more of magic from me in a year than in a thousand years here. Warlocks are persecuted in Camelot; if you come with me you would be honoured.”

Merlin shook his head again. “I will not go with you.”

The Dagda nodded. “As you will, then. You have friends, I see. That young maidservant, the old man…and the princeling.”

Merlin went cold. “Leave Arthur alone!”

“You have made your choice. You will live in the mortal world, forsaking Avalon. I have kept my word, and I will not harm you. Your friends, however, have no such protection.”

“If I go with you…will you leave them alone?”

“If you come with me, there will be no reason to harm them.”

Merlin’s shoulders slumped. “Then I will go with you.”

“ _No!_ ” The shout rang out clear from behind him, and he turned to see Arthur, sword drawn. “You will not take him!”

The Dagda hissed and raised his club. “You dare draw iron against the Sidhe?”

“Arthur, no!”

“Shut up, Merlin!” Arthur shot at him. “I don’t know who you are," he said, turning back to the Dagda, “But Merlin is _my_ manservant, and you _will not take him!_ ”

“Have a care, princeling. I could kill you without a thought.”

“Then kill me. That’s the only way you’re getting him!”

To Merlin’s surprise, the Dagda laughed. “You are brave, princeling, if foolish. I will not harm you, or the young warlock. But have a care for your kingdom!”

“Don’t you dare threaten my people!” Arthur snarled, but there was a swirl of air, and the Dagda was gone.

Arthur stared around the empty clearing, then turned to Merlin. “What the hell was all that?”

“What are you doing here?!” Merlin demanded, his heart sinking. How much had he heard?

“Saving you from your own stupidity, apparently. Who _was_ that?”

“No one!”

Arthur’s lips thinned. “Don’t lie to me, Merlin. He knew you. And he called you a warlock!”

Merlin sighed. He’d known he was going to have to tell Arthur about his magic at some point, but he’d hoped to keep it secret longer than this. “I am.”

Arthur stared at him. “But–”

“I wanted to tell you, Arthur, honestly, but I couldn’t!”

Arthur waved a hand at the empty forest. “Who were they?”

“The Sidhe,” Merlin replied, knowing Arthur wasn’t going to give up until he got the whole story, but dreading it all the same.

“What did they want with you? Who was that man?”

Merlin stared at the ground. “He’s my father.”

“Your _father?_ ”

Merlin said nothing, the cold air cutting through his cloak. Arthur sighed.

“Well, we can’t discuss this out here, it’s freezing, come on!”

***

Back at the castle, Merlin told Arthur everything, from his arrival in Camelot, to the Isle of the Blessed and what he’d learned from his mother. “And she said that when I came of age I’d have to choose between the mortal world and Avalon.”

“You were going to go with him,” Arthur said.

“He threatened you! What else was I supposed to do?” Merlin snapped back.

“I can take care of myself!”

“Which is why I’ve had to save your life _how_ many times since I got here?”

Arthur glared at him. “You’re not going.”

“Well, not now that you made an enemy of him! For God’s sake, Arthur, _think_ before you act next time!”

“What’s the worst he can he do?” Arthur asked.

“The worst? The _worst?_ Well, let’s see, he can go after Gwen, and Uther, and Gaius, and Morgana. He can cause all the crops to fail, or your people to sicken and die, and the gods only know what else!”

Arthur paled. “Can you stop him?”

Merlin snorted. “I’ll try, but there’s not much I can do, especially with magic being illegal in Camelot.”

“Do your best,” Arthur said grimly.

***

The next day, he told Gaius everything, as the physician’s eyebrow climbed incredulously towards his hairline.

When he finished, Gaius only said, “Honestly, I’m amazed either of you lived to see adulthood.”

“But will you help?”

“Of course I’ll help! The Sidhe are dangerous, we have to do something!”

Between them, they figured out something that should at least help keep the Sidhe away from the castle. The hard part was doing it without getting caught.

He scattered a mixture of angelica, salt, bay and wood bettany around Gaius’ chambers, augmenting their protective energy with his magic, and Gaius handed him several sachets to do the same to the rest of the castle, keeping one and tucking it in his pocket.

The next day Merlin scattered the herbs in Arthur’s chambers, with Arthur standing there staring at him. Having Arthur there while he was doing magic made his skin crawl, but he kept quiet until Merlin was finished.

“Do your eyes always do that?” Arthur wanted to know.

“Do what?” Merlin asked.

“Turn gold.”

Merlin nodded.

Arthur shivered.

Merlin held out a sachet. “Keep this with you all the time.”

Arthur snorted. “This seems like something from an old wives’ tale.”

“Exactly,” Merlin said. “The Sidhe are an old wives’ tale and you asked me to do what I could.”

Arthur took the sachet.

***

Over the next week Merlin did what he could to protect the rest of the castle. First he scattered the herbs and salt in Gwen’s room while she was busy attending Morgana, then went on to the rest. He couldn’t do anything about the corridors or grounds, but he got all the unoccupied rooms, casting a spell to alert him to people coming near while he did it.

He’d almost finished scattering the mixture in Morgana’s room, when someone behind him demanded, “What are you doing?”

He froze for a moment, then turned around to see Morgana standing in the doorway, with her arms crossed.

“I–I was–”

“You were doing magic. In my chambers. Why?”

“My lady, I’m sorry, I–”

She cut off his attempted apology impatiently. “For goodness’ sake, Merlin, I don’t care, except it might have been someone else who walked in. What are you doing here?”

“You _knew?_ ” That was the only reason he could think of that she’d take it so calmly.

“Of course I knew; you’ve been in my nightmares since you came here!”

“But Gaius said–” He’d thought Morgana didn’t know the meaning of her dreams.

“I’m not _stupid_ , Merlin! I figured out my dreams are prophetic a long time ago, and you’re a wizard, so why are you doing magic in my chambers of all places?”

He sighed. “This could take awhile.”

“I’ve got time.”

So he sat down, and told her everything. Although her eyes had widened when he’d first mentioned the Dagda, all she said when he was done was, “Arthur’s an idiot.”

Merlin nodded fervently. “The Dagda’s going to go after Camelot, especially the people Arthur cares about. So I’m trying to do what I can to stop it.”

She nodded. “That’s why I’ve been dreaming of famine and fire sweeping across the kingdom.”

Merlin swallowed. “Yes.”

He dug two sachets out of his pocket and handed them to her. “Keep this with you all the time. And give one to Gwen.”

She nodded.

***

He went back to Arthur when he was finished. “I covered all of the castle that I could, but it’s not going to be enough.”

“Isn’t there anything else we can do?”

Merlin shook his head. “He’ll come after the kingdom. And your father. There’s no way I can protect him.”

Arthur’s features set in a hard line. “I don’t care who he is, or what he can do, if he goes after the kingdom I’ll make him pay.”

Merlin nodded, although he didn’t see how Arthur could do anything to even hinder the Dagda. He wished Arthur had just let him go. He wasn’t worth all this.

***

Three days later Uther took sick with a mysterious malady, and nothing Gaius did could cure him.

Once the king was unconscious Merlin scattered the salt and herbs in his chamber, but it didn’t do any good.

Within the week Uther was dead, and Arthur was King.

Arthur finally left his father’s side, and without a word, headed out of the castle. Merlin ran after him.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get some knights together, and kill that bastard.”

Merlin stopped in the corridor for a moment, the idea was so ridiculous, then tried to reason with him. “Arthur, you can’t kill the Dagda! Besides, what would you tell your knights, that you want them to come with you and find faeries?”

Arthur grimaced. “You do have a point.”

“Besides, you’re the King, now. You have to think of Camelot.”

Arthur rounded on him, furious. “And what do you think will happen to Camelot if he’s still out there?”

Merlin sighed. “Alright, you can go after him. But no knights, and I’m coming with you!”

Arthur nodded. “Fine.”

 

***

They sneaked out that night, into the forest where Merlin had first met the Dagda. Arthur wore his sword, and they both had sachets, (“For all the good it will do.”)

“You know we could be out here all night. There’s no reason for him to show up. He’s got us right where he wants us,” Merlin pointed out.

“Oh, he’ll show up,” Arthur assured him grimly.

Sure enough, as midnight approached, the Dagda appeared, without his Court.

He bowed ironically to Arthur. “Your Majesty.”

“You _bastard!_ ” Arthur snarled, lunging for him, but Merlin held him back.

“We’re here to bargain,” Merlin said. “Leave Camelot alone.”

“Ah,” the Dagda said. “And what do you offer in return?”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Merlin, _no!_ ”

Merlin rounded on Arthur. “If I don’t, he’ll keep plaguing the kingdom until there’s nothing left.”

“I’m not letting you go with him!”

“It’s the only way!”

“Not forever!” Arthur insisted.

The Dagda smiled. “No. Not forever. I will return him in a hundred years.”

“One year.”

“You are in no position to bargain, princeling,” the Dagda told him. “Very well. Ten years.”

“Five.”

“Seven.”

“Seven years,” Arthur agreed heavily. “Your word on it!”

The Dagda took out a copper knife and slit his palm, letting the blood drip onto the ground. “My word is given. After seven years, I will return him.” Then he handed the knife to Arthur.

Arthur slit his palm without a wince, and let his own blood fall to the earth.

“The bargain is struck. In seven years I will return him to you. Now come away, youngling.”

Merlin moved toward Arthur and put a hand on his shoulder. “Look after Gwen, would you?”

Arthur nodded.

“If you have problems, talk to Gaius, he’ll figure something out. And listen to Morgana; she’s got a good head on her shoulders. Don’t dismiss her dreams.”

Arthur nodded again. “Merlin…” There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the words.

Merlin smiled at him. “It’ll be alright.”

Feeling choked, he held out his hand. Merlin clasped it, then there was a blast of wind and Arthur let go to shield his face.

When he looked up the clearing was empty.

***

He rode back to Camelot in a daze and trudged back to his room.

It was all pointless. He’d had to sacrifice Merlin to save his kingdom. And, bargain or not, he didn’t think he’d ever see him again.

He stared at the ceiling of his room until dawn, then went to talk to Gaius.

On the way, he almost ran into Gwen. “Your Majesty, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you!”

“That’s alright, Gwen, it was my fault; I was distracted. Oh, Merlin was called away suddenly to go see his family. I’m not sure when he’ll be back.” He felt terrible lying to her, but he couldn’t tell her the truth.

“Is everything alright?” she asked anxiously.

He smiled sadly. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Gwen. Now, I need to go see Gaius, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, sire. I should be getting back to Morgana anyway.” And she bobbed a curtsey and left.

***

When he got to Gaius’ chambers, the physician looked at him in concern. “Sire, have you seen Merlin? He wasn’t here when I woke up this morning.”

“Merlin’s gone,” Arthur said tightly.

“What do you mean?”

Arthur winced at the physician’s sharp tone, and told him, in as few words as possible, what had happened.

“I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen,” he finished.

Gaius sighed. “No, you wouldn’t have been able to. Merlin knew that it was the only way to save the kingdom. The Sidhe keep their word, but they are very literal-minded and adept at misdirection and manipulation. The Dagda would have got his hands on Merlin, one way or another.”

“Do you think he’ll bring Merlin back?”

Gaius looked troubled. “I don’t know.”

***

Morgana burst into his chambers later that afternoon, as he was writing to Merlin’s mother. “What’s this about Merlin going off to visit his family without saying goodbye?”

“They needed him. He got the news and left early this morning,” Arthur said, reflecting that he was unexpectedly good at half-truths.

“Like hell!” Morgana snapped. “It’s the Dagda, isn’t it? He’s got him!”

Arthur gaped at her. “How do you know about that?”

“I caught Merlin scattering herbs in my chamber. What happened?”

Arthur was so surprised he told her.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“What can I do?” Arthur asked dully. “Either the Dagda brings him back in seven years, or…” he trailed off.

“Or…?” Morgana repeated.

“Or he doesn’t.”

***

Over the next seven years, Arthur made peace with all his neighbours. He repealed the ban on magic, and when Lancelot came back, he made him a Knight, and founded the Order of the Knights of the Round Table.

He didn’t marry, although Gaius and all his advisors urged him to.

Gwen fell in love with Lancelot, and eventually married him. When Morgana had a dream of plague in Camelot, borne by visitors, he remembered what Merlin had said and had Gaius ride out to meet them and return with them to help their village. Hunith wrote to him to say she didn’t blame him for what happened, which just made him feel worse.

Every Samhain, he drank a toast to Merlin, wherever he was, and counted down the days until his return.

On the day Merlin had been taken, he prepared to face the Dagda, and rode out at sunset.

When he got to the spot where they’d spoken to the Dagda, he was surprised to see an oak sapling sprouting from the leaf-mould, near a young yew tree.

He tied his horse some distance away and waited.

At midnight the Dagda appeared. Merlin stood slightly behind him. Arthur had to stifle a cry at his appearance.

Merlin looked the same as he had the last time he saw him, but he was deathly pale and there was no sense in his eyes. His wrists were bound in front of him with bracelets of thorns; Arthur could see the blood trickling down, dark against Merlin’s pale skin.

“So, princeling, I return him, as promised.”

Arthur moved over to Merlin, and drew him away from the Dagda. He pulled the thorns from Merlin’s wrists, as carefully as he could, ignoring the burning cold that took the skin off his fingers.

Merlin’s eyes focussed, and he blinked at him sluggishly. “A-Arthur?”

“It’s me,” he told him. “You’re safe.”

“Now that our bargain is fulfilled, I will take him away once more, and you will not see him again.”

But Arthur had been prepared for just such treachery. “Like hell you will!” he said, drawing his sword.

The Dagda raised his club. As it came down, Arthur knew it would kill him. He didn’t flinch.

And the club rebounded off a shining dome of force that suddenly sprang into being around him.

He shot a glance at Merlin. He shook his head, eyes wide.

“So, princeling,” the Dagda spat, “You would use magic against me as well.”

Arthur didn’t know what he was talking about but he said, “I told you before, you’re not getting him! Now _leave!_ ”

The Dagda nodded. “I have no wish to stand against both of you. You will have challenges enough without me. But the Sidhe will have no love for Camelot henceforth.”

And he was gone.

Arthur looked at Merlin. “Did you do that?”

Merlin shook his head again, looking as if he were about to faint.

“We need to get you to Gaius.”

***

Arthur pounded on the door to the physician’s chambers until Gaius opened it.

“All right, all right, what–Merlin!” He fixed a penetrating gaze on Arthur, as he stood aside to let them in. “What happened?”

Arthur told him about meeting the Dagda, about defying him, and the shield that had protected him.

“Merlin says he didn’t do it…”

“I didn’t,” Merlin said, from where he was sitting letting Gaius bandage his wrists. “It was you.”

“But…but I can’t use magic!” All very well to make magic legal in Camelot; he knew it wasn’t inherently evil, but to have it himself…

“Then who did it?” Merlin shot back.

“It was you,” Gaius confirmed.

Arthur turned to him. “But that’s impossible!”

Gaius sighed and shook his head. “Your father made me swear never to tell you, but given that he’s dead and your magic has broken through, it seems I’ll have to break my word.”

“Tell me what?” Arthur asked, a chill threading down his spine.

“Igraine was barren,” Gaius began. “She couldn’t conceive, for everything they did. Uther wouldn’t cast her aside, but the kingdom needed an heir.”

He paused, gathering his thoughts. “He asked me to approach Nimueh for a solution.”

“Nimueh!” Merlin interrupted. “But she’s _evil!_ ”

Gaius nodded. “And yet, I believe she would not have become so if Uther had not cast her out.”

“What _happened?_ ” Arthur insisted, throwing an annoyed glance at Merlin.

“She agreed to allow Igraine to conceive. She would create a life…”

“But to create a life with magic demands a life in return!” Merlin blurted out, looking appalled.

Gaius nodded. “Uther knew the price would be a heavy one, but he did not know how heavy. So Igraine conceived, and you were born, and when you took your first breath Igraine breathed her last, and Uther declared magic anathema.”

Arthur stared at him, replaying what he’d said over and over in his mind but unable to absorb it. His father had consorted with sorcerers? His mother had died to give him life? “But…but that means all the deaths because of the ban on sorcery are my fault!”

“No, Arthur!” Merlin said immediately. “It was Uther’s decision, not yours! This wasn’t your fault!”

Arthur wasn’t listening. It was his birth which had killed his mother, his birth which had caused his father to start a crusade against magic, his birth which had condemned hundreds of people, many of them innocent, to death.

“I knew when you were born that there was a possibility you would have magic, although I did not tell Uther this.”

Arthur forced himself to concentrate on what Gaius was saying. “And indeed you did have magic, but it was dormant and unlikely to manifest, although your children might have it.”

“But then why…”

“I can only suppose that the threat of such an overwhelming magical force caused your own magic to manifest to protect you.”

“Will it happen again?” Arthur asked, feeling sick.

Gaius shrugged. “If it does, we’ll deal with it.”

“I need to go.”

He left Gaius’ rooms and headed for his own, intent on ordering enough wine to drown a country, but Merlin ran after him.

“Arthur, wait!”

“Leave me alone,” he said dully.

“It’s not so bad, having magic, and it might not even manifest again.”

“You think that’s what I’m worried about? I have the deaths of hundreds of people on my conscience, including my own mother!”

“Then make sure you’re worthy of their sacrifice! Become the king who unites Albion!”

“Unite Albion?” The thought had never occurred to him. He supposed it was possible, but it would take a long time.

Merlin nodded.

“I missed you,” Arthur confessed.

Merlin smiled at him for the first time since they’d got back. “I missed you too…I mean…I wasn’t able to think much, because of the manacles, but I knew I wasn’t where I was supposed to be, and there was someone I was supposed to be helping.”

“What happened, when you were with the Dagda?”

Merlin shuddered. “Please don’t make me talk about that. Ever.”

Arthur put a hand on his shoulder. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“So what’s been happening here?” Merlin asked, in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

Arthur told him about the Round Table.

“So anyone can be a Knight!” Merlin exclaimed, pleased.

Arthur nodded. “And Lancelot’s back, or rather Sir Lancelot.”

A slow grin spread over Merlin’s face. “Is he? That’s great!”

“He married Gwen,” Arthur said offhandedly.

“He didn’t!” Merlin sounded shocked.

“He did,” Arthur confirmed.

Merlin laughed again. “Good for him! And good for Gwen!”

Arthur nodded. “She deserves to be happy.”

A shadow crossed Merlin’s face. “What about you? It’s been seven years, have you…”

Arthur shook his head. “I haven’t married.” The truth was he didn’t want to marry. If he married Morgana they’d kill each other inside a week, and all the nobles’ daughters were preening, sycophantic flutterheads.

Merlin relaxed slightly, but then he said, “You should. Camelot needs an heir.”

“So my advisors keep telling me. But I figure there’s plenty of time for that.”

Merlin’s eyes cleared, and he smiled at him. Arthur smiled back.

He didn’t know what the future would bring–whether he would succeed in uniting Albion, whether his magic would manifest again, whether he could even deal with the truth of his own existence. But he was king now, and Merlin was back with him.

Anything was possible.


	2. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin’s time with the Dagda.

Merlin looked around. Arthur was gone. He stood in a field, inside a circle of stones. The Dagda looked down at him. “So, youngling, you chose to come with me after all,” he said smugly.

“You didn’t give me a choice!” Merlin snarled at him. “If I hadn’t you would have hurt my friends!”

“You could have let them be,” the Dagda pointed out.

Merlin shook his head. “You don’t know anything about us, do you?”

“On the contrary. I know how to get what I want from a human. Our children are deformed, sickly. So we take human children to raise. And now you can take your place as my son.”

“You must be joking! You threaten my friends and then expect me to _join_ you?” 

“I can teach you much of magic.”

“I don’t want to learn anything from you!”

The Dagda’s face grew cold with rage. “So be it.”

And thorns were suddenly piercing Merlin’s wrists to the bone, binding them in front of him, burning cold that made all his life seep away.

He grasped at the memories, trying to hold them, but they were gone like a dream upon waking. Had he ever been anywhere else but here?

“So, youngling. Will you join me?”

He looked up at the man. He’d never seen him before, but something told him that he couldn’t be trusted. “No.”

The man swept away, leaving Merlin alone. He wandered, out of the field, through forest, hills and mountains that seemed to go on forever. There was no one else there, and he neither tired nor grew hungry.

He tried to remember who he was, who he’d been before he’d come here, but the thorns stabbed deeper into his wrists, and he stopped. He was bleeding…had been for a long time. He should have weakened by now…

The man suddenly reappeared in a clearing. “Will you join me?”

“No.”

And memories suddenly flooded him…or perhaps they were visions of the future. People he knew. Arthur. Gwen. Gaius. Morgana. Arthur was making Camelot into a kingdom that would shine down the ages, that people would hold up as the ideal for centuries to come. Arthur, realising he was hopelessly in love with Gwen, marrying her and ruling by her side. The years passing until Merlin was forgotten, by those he’d known as well as history.

The vision faded, leaving behind a sense of anguish so deep he could hardly breathe.

The man looked down at him, for he’d fallen to his knees. “Will you join me?”

“No,” Merlin whispered. But why not? There was nothing else for him to do. Something stopped him, some memory that still remained to him. _Without you Arthur will never succeed. Without you there will be no Albion._

Arthur. There was nothing associated with the name, but it was important, more important than anything else. He had to help Arthur, whoever he was. He couldn’t submit.

The man kept asking him to join him, and Merlin always refused. Each time the sense of who he was returned to him, as the man showed him things he couldn’t be sure were true. Ealdor, overrun by plague. Arthur, fallen on the field of battle. Gwen, dying in childbirth.

The sense of himself never lasted beyond the time of the vision, but the emotions the vision called up remained with him. Only the knowledge that he had a destiny kept him from agreeing to join the man and ending the torment.

One day the man came to him. “Come with me, youngling. You shall see the mortal world one more time.”

The man led him to the circle of stones, then the world shifted and he was standing in a clearing. There was a man waiting for them, tall and strong, wearing a crown.

“So, princeling, I return him, as promised,” the man said.

Return him? No, that was impossible. The man would never let him go.

The man who’d met them drew him away, and removed the thorns from his wrists. Memory began seeping back. “A-Arthur?”

“It’s me. You’re safe.” 

Safe. He was back. He was with Arthur.

But the man–the Dagda, his father–was speaking. “Now that our bargain is fulfilled, I will take him away once more, and you will not see him again.”

Arthur drew his sword. “Like hell you will!”

The Dagda’s club came down at Arthur, and Merlin hadn’t used his magic in so long he couldn’t do anything…

And the club rebounded off a shield that had sprung up around Arthur.

Arthur looked at him, and he shook his head. He hadn’t done it. What was going on?

“So, princeling. You would use magic against me as well.”

Arthur, use magic? He wasn’t a sorcerer, couldn’t be…

“I told you before, you’re not getting him! Now _leave!_ ”

And, miraculously, the Dagda did leave, as Merlin finally collapsed.

***

Merlin was having trouble accepting the fact that he was back, and for good. The news that Arthur had magic was almost too much to take in. Arthur being Arthur, he blamed himself for all the deaths in his father’s rein, and probably would no matter what Merlin said.

He tried to get through to him anyway, running after him when he left.

“It’s not so bad, having magic, and it might not even manifest again.”

“You think that’s what I’m worried about? I have the deaths of hundreds of people on my conscience, including my own mother!”

Of course he knew Arthur was blaming himself, he wasn’t blind! “Then make sure you’re worthy of their sacrifice! Become the king who unites Albion!”

“Unite Albion?” Arthur looked dubious.

Merlin nodded.

“I missed you,” Arthur said suddenly.

Merlin was surprised. He knew Arthur had missed him, but hadn’t thought he’d come out and _say_ it. He smiled at him. “I missed you too…I mean…I wasn’t able to think much, because of the manacles, but I knew I wasn’t where I was supposed to be, and there was someone I was supposed to be helping.” He tried to banish the memories of his time with the Dagda. It was over: he was safe, Arthur was safe, Camelot was safe. He didn’t need to think about it anymore.

Until Arthur asked him about it. “What happened, when you were with the Dagda?”

Merlin forced the memories back again with an effort. “Please don’t make me talk about that. Ever.”

Arthur heard the distress in his voice, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“So what’s been happening here?” He needed to know if the things the Dagda had shown him were true.

“I founded a new Order of Knights, the Round Table. And I threw out the First Law of Camelot.”

“So anyone can be a Knight!” The idea that peasants wouldn’t be loyal to the king was ridiculous, and since the nobility was small, Camelot’s army had been mostly made up of common soldiers. Hopefully that would change now. 

“And Lancelot’s back, or rather Sir Lancelot.” Arthur continued.

Merlin grinned. “Is he? That’s great!” He couldn’t think of anyone who deserved to be a knight more than Lancelot.

“He married Gwen.”

What? But… _Arthur_ married Gwen! That meant that what the Dagda had shown him hadn’t happened. He felt hope rising in him. “He didn’t!”

“He did.”

Merlin felt a slow smile spread over his face. “Good for him! And good for Gwen!”

“She deserves to be happy.”

That was certainly true. Gwen had been his first friend in Camelot, even before Arthur. Still… “What about you? It’s been seven years, have you…” He must have. The kingdom needed an heir.

But Arthur was shaking his head. “I haven’t married.”

Merlin tried to conceal his relief. “You should. Camelot needs an heir.” Regardless of what Arthur marrying would do to him, he needed to carry on the succession.

“So my advisors keep telling me. But I figure there’s plenty of time for that.”

Merlin decided not to force the issue. It wasn’t like he wanted Arthur to get married, after all.

He was back. Arthur had begun the long task of making Camelot great, and Merlin would help him do it.


End file.
